Taming ones inner Slytherin
by simbele
Summary: Harry returns for his seventh year at Hogwarts to face vindictive sorting hats, smug headmasters, changed friends and reformed enemies. A Resorting fic about year seven, with HPDM, SSRL, HGBZ, SFOC.
1. What one might expect, or not

**Title**: Taming ones inner Slytherin

**Author**: Simbele

**Pairings**: Harry/Draco, Severus/Remus, Hermione/Blaise, Seamus/OC

**Rating**: MA (R) just to be sure. There might be cursing and/or snogging.

**A/N**: A very spontaneous Plot bunny, but it was so darn persistent. First chapter of (hopefully) many more to come. Not beta'd, since I decided to post this at 11:40 PM without telling Trasdockan. She might get mad.

Not sure about updates, which will probably be sporadic at best – what with school and my other novel-length HP-story. (coming soon!) But drop me a note if you like it and want me to stop messing about, and I'll try to keep up the pace. Cheers!

Spending a month and a half in a barely habitable ditch had taught Harry Potter to value the little things. Roofs, for instance, or temperatures above 10 +C, running water and food that tastes like something other than dirt, or possibly fur. So when he sat down at the Gryffindor table at the opening feast, he treasured it greatly. Especially since this was his last opening feast, his last Sorting ceremony, his last introduction of a new DADA teacher. (Even though Voldemort was gone, the rumour of the curse placed on the position still lingered, and made people nervous. They never stayed longer than a year.)

Anyway, he was going to miss all this. It was, after all, all he knew.

But at the same time he couldn't wait to leave. To see places, meet people, to try his wings and find himself, and to finally be able to do it in a world without Voldie.

To kill the old toad had actually been ridiculously easy, if you skip the part about living in a ditch for nearly to months. Harry had spent his sixth year doing basically three things. He learned a complex spell to bind the final piece of Lord Voldemort in a easily destroyed horcrux, how to shoot a muggle gun and rifle, and how to pretend that he was still as clueless as always. (Ron had claimed he didn't need to act.)

It had been a smooth, but slightly bizarre journey, all thanks to the person elected to teach him, to be his mentor, his personal guide and moral support, namely Severus Snape.

Every week, Wednesday night at 7:30 PM Harry had dutifully trotted down to the dungeons and spent three-and-a-half hours in Snapes private quarters. It had been surprisingly not-horrible, after they vented some frustrations and screamed at each other and called a truce. Sometime in January, Harry and Sevvie (which Harry was under no circumstances allowed to call him, but did anyway) had developed a friendship based on insults and constant verbal bating. Harry found it relaxing and oddly freeing, in a way.

After the leaving feast of sixth year Harry and Severus had departed from Hogwarts to spend some time in what Harry would later come to refer to as The Shed in The Ditch. It was a very old, very small and very rickety cottage, built in a very small pit, about a half a mile from McNair Manor. They spent a month taking reports from Lucius Malfoy about the guarding routines and the planned death eater meetings. They eventually got hold of blueprints of the manor, and slowly begun to plan. On his birthday, the now seventeen year old Harry had sneaked inside of the manor. Once confronted with the Dark Lord himself, he had promptly blown his brains out. After capturing Voldies soul in an old tea cup, he then returned to Grimmauld place and proceeded to get himself smashed beyond recognition. Remus, Severus, Hermione, Tonks and Kingsley had found this to be a brilliant course of action, and joined him. Severus had to brew hang-over potions for all of them the next day.

Looking back now, Harry realised that it might not have been the best idea, since Molly Weasly was still residing at Grimmauld place. But still, he hadn't expected to survive long enough to see his seventeenth birthday. Some celebration had been in order. Even Dumbledore had seemed to think so, and had given Harry a 243 year old bottle of fine red wine for his late birthday present. And the celebrations seemed to go on, if the look of the Great Hall was anything to go by. It was decorated in all the house colours of Hogwarts, with more candles then ever lit, to shed some light on the huge banner floating over the teachers table which read: ' United we stood, and together we gained freedom!'

It was definitely Dumbledores doing since it glittered in lilac and was set to randomly flash in orange. If the food could actually get any better, it probably had, but no one noticed much difference.

The Sorting had gained them some new little Gryffindors, Dumbledore had said his usual nonsense of words (' Pickle, smack down, macaroon and sprinkles!'), and Ron was yet again, stuffing his face full with chicken drum sticks. Hermione was trying to get him to use his napkin while having a conversation about S.P.E.W with a not so enthusiastic Ginny. Al was as it should be. Harry was just about to get Seamus down from his high horse about the Galway Ghosts winning the cup, when Dumbledore rose once again to speak. Silence fell over the Great hall with a feel of expectation, since so far it had been pleasant surprises only. (More quiddditch matches this year, private rooms for Head boy and girl and prefects and an option to choose new courses if you had made choices you had later come to regret. Ron was most pleased about the latter, considering he was failing Divination rather extravagantly.)

"My dear, dear friends, my students, my fellow teachers!" Dumbledore exclaimed.

"What times we have seen! Such deeds of bravery, hope and strength one only dreamed of in our sweetest dreams, and yet we have lived to see them. Many people turned out to be other than what they appeared, both for good and for bad, and sometime during last year I came to the conclusion that some of you are not in the houses where you truly belong."

He paused at this, and at first no one but Hermione seemed to catch on.

She turned to Harry and looked at him with confusion shining in her eyes, a not very common expression for her. "Harry, surely he doesn't mean..." she trailed off, and left Harry none the wiser. However, Dumbledore continued.

"Thus, I have decided that from now on, every fifth year shall be resorted at the opening feast every year. Since this is the first time, I see it only to be just to resort the sixth and seventh years tonight as well."

For e moment a complete, stunned silence reigned in the Hall. But when Dumbledore sat down again, it exploded with sound. Shouts of joy and expectation mingled with screeches of

indignity and protest. However, Harry noticed with a sense of relief that the majority of the student body seemed happy with the change. He himself had seen this coming for a long time, as he had seen the segregation in the houses both before and during the war. It was time for change. Beside him, Ron was sitting with his jaw to the floor and simply gaping at the very smug smile that the headmaster was sporting.

"Harry, he's joking, right? He must be. Tell me he's bloody joking, Harry!"

Harry was positive that the only thing running through his friends mind right now was the idea of having to be sorted with the Slytherins. While trying to calm Ron, Harry found his eyes calmly surveying the Great Hall. The Ravenclaws seemed to take the news with ease, as they had reached the conclusion that most of them were going right back to their table after getting the sorting hat put on their heads. The Hufflepuffs seemed nervous, but still slightly cheerful, much as they always did. Since the greatest Hufflepuff-ability was first and foremost their way to make friends with almost anyone, they didn't have much to worry about. Glancing around his own table, he saw faces mostly set to determination, determination to not let this beat them down most likely, and Harry felt an odd sense of pride. This kind of courage was the kind that was differential for the true Gryffindors, and it was that kind of pride that he had found among many of his fellow students when they had finally understood that war was upon them. Harry doubted that many of the Gryffindors had much to worry about either.

Finally, looking at the Slytherin table, he was met with a surprise. Though many of them was sporting expressions of indifference or speculation, almost half of them seemed genuinely happy with the decision. To Harry it seemed that the majority of the students would leave the Great Hall happy that night.

"Potter, Harry!" Harrys name rang out loud and clear in the Hall, and the student body seemed to hold their breath. Since Voldies sudden demise, Harry had become if possible, even more famous then before. The decision of his housing could be more decisive then ever. They hadn't been sorted alphabetically, so Harry wondered if Dumbledore might have had something to do with him being sorted last of everyone.

He walked calmly up the steps to the low stool and sat down. Before the Hat was put on his head he got one last look of the tables before him, now with some new additions to them. Hermione had to no ones surprise been placed at the Ravenclaw table, and the house had welcomed her with open arms like it's prodigal daughter returned home. Ron had ended up back in Gryffindor, no chock their either, and the relief had shone clearly in his eyes. It had dimmed a bit though, when Hermione left and when Seamus had promptly walked over to the Slytherin table and shook hands with Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson.

Shortly after that, Malfoy had been resorted back in Slytherin, Neville had left Gryffindor for Hufflepuff, Zachariah Smith had been sorted into Slytherin and Zabini had traded green for Blue and become a Ravenclaw. Ginny had been sorted into Slytherin at Rons indignant cry, along with a sly looking, dark haired, seventh year boy from Hufflepuff, and now it was Harrys turn.

He was quite certain as to where he might end up, but his thoughts was abruptly cut off by an alien presence in his mind.

"Well, well.. What have we here, hmm?" The Sorting Hat sounded way to smug for it's own good, and Harry had no doubts on where he was going. "You refused my choice the last time, but now there is no other option than to put you in SLYTHERIN!" As the last word was shouted out for all to hear, it only took a few seconds before the students followed the teachers example and applauded politely. He stood up and looked at his robes and tie just in time to see them change from red and gold to green and silver, the snake replacing the lion on his chest. Smiling broadly, very satisfied with the result, Harry marched straight down to the Slytherin table and sat down next to Seamus who slapped him on the back, and Pansy who tried not to stare at him. Harrys smile turned smug. If there was anything he loved, besides flying, it was to surprise people.

For a while the Hall was filled with pleasant chatter amongst the students and the teachers, and Harry slowly snacked on some salt pretzels and let others do the talking. This was a trick he had picked up from Albus himself. When confronted with silence, people have a tendency to talk to fill it. Harry was eager to find out more about his new housemates so that he could figure out how to approach them. Mostly the talk around him concerned introductions and some quick background stories (though not much about blood and ancestry, Harry noted), and later on quiddditch and schoolwork. So far everyone stayed clear of the war, by an unspoken rule. Harry soon found out that Ginny and Pansy had loads in common, and that Severus Snape wasn't the mean bastard everyone presumed him to be, he just loathed Gryffindors for their cheek and Hufflepuffs for their lack of backbone, and he secretly admired the Ravenclaws for their intelligence, but told no one. Harry stuck with the non-talking principle and refrained from telling everyone that he already knew that, even though it would have made for a smashing topic of conversation – "How I Killed Mouldy-Wart With The Help Of A Grumpy Potions Master."

But he soon noticed that he wasn't the only one not speaking. At the far end of the table sat Draco Malfoy, notorious bully and turn coat, looking as speculative as ever, his blond hair falling in neat bangs around his now grown up face. Every now and then he would twirl his trademark ring - with a stylised M in silver and red – around his ring finger with his thumb and stare deeply into his goblet, as if looking for the secrets of eternal life in it.

If indeed he did, Harry could tell him right there and then, it wasn't pretty.

And speaking of pretty, Harry had never realised that Dracos eyes were quite that mercury shade of silver, with such impossibly long eyelashes- and that's when he realised that for him to see Dracos eyes, Draco must be looking at him. Wondering how much of a fool he had made of himself, Harry broke eye contact and proceeded to blush into his bowl of pretzels, not noticing that Draco was blushing too.

Seamus however, did notice and started to mentally crack his knuckles. Match-making was his thing, damnit!

At Dumbledores cue, all the students rose to the shouts from the Head Boy and Girl, and prefects from respective houses. Pansy took it upon herself to manage the first years while Draco rose and spoke. "Slytherins, follow me for the new password!" There was no sneer, harry noted, only a cool sort of politeness. Very neutral. It made Harry itch to see the real Draco Malfoy. He got up from the table and jogged over to hug Hermione good night, and to ensure Ron that everything would be fine. He turned back just in time to see the Slytherins begin to leave the Great Hall. Picking up his pace and running after them, he ran smack into a tall figure dressed in black. After straightening his glasses and establishing who this dark and looming character was, he winced silently. Not anyone had the unbelievable luck to run into Severus Snape, even if he turned out to be a comrade-in-arms and ones new Head of House.

Around them, students fell silent and held their collective breaths as they prepared themselves mentally for the wrath that was Professor Snape, scorned. But when Snape simply straightened his robes and looked down his crooked nose at his student and said simply "No running in the Great Hall, Mr Potter. Do it again and I will take house points." and walked away, collective jaws fell to the floor. Harry though, just smiled and walked calmly over to the waiting Slytherins. Meeting the perplexed eyes of Draco Malfoy, he simply raised an eyebrow and gave a half-smile. The blondes look of confusion lifted and instead he looked impressed. With a small nod, he turned and began to walk. Harry instead had to occupy himself with answering the incredibly excited Seamus who wanted to know _exactly _how one should go about to get Snape to treat you like something other than excrement under his boot.

Harry simply laughed and kept on walking.

Being a Slytherin would be nice, he silently decided.

After having arrived to his new common room, (Which looked almost exactly like they had five years ago, but seemed more welcoming now), got the tour for his new dorm and been told of the unofficial rules and various passwords of the Slytherin House, Harry was on the verge of having a fit. His nicotine patch had stopped working during the feast, and now he was itching for a cigarette. This was a bad habit he had picked up during the time in The Shed in The Ditch with Sevvie. Not being able to relax properly, both Harry and Severus had smoked to pass the time. It hadn't taken long to get Harry hooked, and Remus actually got Harry a beautiful Zippo-lighter for his birthday, engraved with the Potter crest on one side and the Black crest on the other.

Harry had been pleased to notice that since the Slytherin dorms was in the dungeons, someone had probably felt that the children wouldn't get enough sun and had built them a terrace. One simply walked up two flights of stairs which could be found in the common room, and through a thick wooden door and had a space the size of a second common room with weather proof furniture and a see-through roof at ones dispense. After making sure that that Seamus was properly entertained with chatting with the sly looking ex-Hufflepuff, Damien ..something, since Seamus had a habit of getting jittery if bored, Harry sneaked up the two flights of stairs and sank down in an extremely comfortable armchair, his back to the door.

He pulled out a battered pack of smokes and was just about to light up when he heard the door open again. Mentally cursing and filing away his beloved lighter and cigarette in a pocket as quietly as he could he made to stand up when the sound of a match being lit reached his ears. The unmistakable sound of someone inhaling and then blowing out smoke followed, and was

sealed with a content sigh. Harry stood up quickly and turned around to find himself facing a very surprised and guilty looking blond with a Marlboro between his lips.

"Potter?"

"Malfoy."

After assessing the other for a moment, Harry saw the usual mask of contempt slide into place on other boys face.

"You going to turn me in, Potter?" The sneer was back, and Malfoy was in full defence mode.

Harry decided to try and preserve the peace for as long as possible, and slowly reached into his pocket to pull out his Zippo and his own pack of Marlboro. Keeping steady eye contact with the blonde before him, he lit his cigarette and took a deep drag.

"Only if you turn me in." Came the response, and Draco seemed pleased.

"Well, well, WELL. You got more balls then I thought, Potter. Where have you been hiding them all this time?" There was a slight sneer, But Harry realised there was a genuine question somewhere in the insult, and for some reason he felt compelled to answer it.

"I had to put up a face Malfoy, just like you. Voldemorts greatest weaknesses was his fear of death and his arrogance. Since he didn't expect me to have the balls to attack him, I had the element of surprise." He noticed that Draco neither winced, nor jerk at his use of the Dark Lords name. "Plus, I was the Gryffindor Golden boy. If I had started to show Slytherin tendencies people would have thought I was under the Imperius Curse or whatever."

Draco seemed taken aback with his honest answer, and Harry took another drag on his cigarette to hide his nervousness. Why he was nervous, he really had no idea, but he held his mental breath while waiting for the other boys reaction.

Glancing up, he saw that Dracos facial expression had changed yet again, and it seemed that he was not trying to determine if Harry was yanking his chain or being truthful, and if so, how come?

"So, how'd' you do it?" The question came out of nowhere and caught Harry by surprise.

"Sorry?"

"How did you do it? How did you end that stinking pile of garbage that struck fear in the heart of wizardkind?" Draco repeated with a theatrical voice, the suspicious expression never leaving his face.

Ah. Harry had been waiting for that one since he had stepped onto platform 9 and ¾, but so far, no one had had the guts to ask him. Of course, Draco Malfoy would be the first. Taking a deep breath he decided to both summarise and censor his response.

"A very old, Celtic soul binding-spell and a Glock 22. And some wandless stunning. That's about it. And of course, the balls to go through with it."

He took another drag, but this time to chase away the memories of the Manor and that awful summer spent waiting and waiting and planning and waiting some more. It had been hell on earth. He had actually felt a short bout of relief when he got the go-ahead to make his move, if only for a little while. Facing Draco yet again, he continued since Draco didn't seem inclined to reply just yet.

"It was hell for the nerves, but it seems very fitting to.. _end_ him, in such a muggle fashion. And we- I, probably couldn't have done it without your fathers help."

Draco raised his eyebrow at his slip-ups but said nothing, and then nodded, looking thoughtful at the mention of his father.

Lucius Malfoy had been all sneers and insults and not worth a shite as far as Harry had been concerned, at least when it came to testimonies. The elder Malfoy had switched sides once Voldemort had sent a small army to attack Hogwarts at the end of Harrys sixth year. When only six Death Eaters escaped the DA, it had been made painfully clear that the side of light was going to fight fire with fire. Harry had later given the facts at Malfoy Sr.'s trial, but not been very persuasive about keeping him out of jail, but if he was going to help bridge the gap between himself and his new dorm mate, so be it.

Deciding it was time to press Malfoy for some answers himself, harry took another drag and gathered up some courage. After all, if this was a sensitive area they might as well blow off the potential friendship right now.

"So, what was your real position in this thing? Were you following in daddy dearest footsteps as always or where you going to think for yourself for once?" He bit back a wince as soon as he had said it, realising how harsh it had sounded, but Malfoy saw this and shook his head.

"No, I deserved that. I spent my entire childhood repeating my fathers words, even when I doubted them. But when he made it clear that it was his way or no way, I was prepared to pack and leave, inheritance or no." Once again picking at his Malfoy ring, he spoke up again. "If it was one thing he taught me it was pride, and I was not about to crawl before a madman looking to destroy the evolution of the wizarding world. But make no mistake, nor was I about to sacrifice my life to ensure its prosperity. After all, we're not all Gryffindors at heart."

Meeting Harrys eyes head on, Dracos expression was one of an inquiring challenge.

Harry accepted it, and nodded his head. "Understandable. It would have pained me to have been forced to send you to Azkaban." Draco answered his slightly unsure smile with a raised eyebrow and a steady smile of his own.

"Oh, be sure Harry, it would have pained me too."

And on that note, he stood, crushed the butt of his cigarette under his boot clad foot, gave a polite and somewhat ironic bow, turned and left.


	2. Faces and Illusions

**Taming ones inner Slytherin – Chapter two**

**Author:** Simbele

**Pairing:** HP/DM (And more to come, obviously.)

**Rating:** MA (R) just to be sure.

There might be cursing and/or snogging, you never know.

**Disclaimer**: It's the Plot Bunnies fault, not mine! They kidnapped the characters artfully created by JKR and then stuffed them in my head. What was I supposed to do?

No, but seriously. Don't own anything, never will, 'cept my phone bill and Damien. It's all hers. Now shove off.

A/N: And also, one of my friends acted off when I told her that I was using Pansy Parkinson in this story, as one of the more main side-characters. It would seem that the general opinion of Pansy is ugly and mean. Thus, I am remaking her. Suck it up or leave. It's my sandbox.

The reality of being a Slytherin sunk in when Harry woke up to the sight of green bed curtains, and the fact that no one was yelling at Ron to get up. (This was actually kind of nice.) Sitting up and putting on his glasses, Harry took his time to properly view his new dorm. It was a very stylish, oblong room done in a sort of less-is-more fashion, not quite Spartan, but a very clean and yet luxurious decoration. It was almost the dead opposite of the Gryffindor dorms, which were a whirlwind of red and gold and brown and pillows and soft carpeting and whatnot. Harry still hadn't decided which one he liked best.

Left of Harry was Seamus bed, and on his right was the ex-Hufflepuff, Damien...What's-his-names', Harry still couldn't remember. Across from Seamus was Draco, and on _his_ left, Crabbe and then Goyle. Further down on the left, beyond Seamus bed was the door to the showers.

Pushing aside his covers and getting out of bed, he slapped a still sleeping Seamus on the arse (The only one who had ever allowed him to do so, since they were both bisexual) and headed for the showers. As soon as he opened the door though, he was confronted with the sight of a blond God clad only in a pair of black jeans, shaving himself in front of a semi-steam covered mirror. Trying not to drool, Harry ripped his eyes of Draco Malfoys back and made to get himself a towel. He turned his back to Draco while changing to prevent more embarrassing staring, and thus didn't notice the other boy turning around and dropping his chin to the floor.

Neither did he notice the blonde going beetroot red and practically fleeing the shower room.

Seamus, who was just entering to shower himself, however, did.

After cleaning up and trying not to notice Seamus smug smile, which more often then not meant that he was up to something, Harry ventured back into the dormitory and pulled on a simple brown T-shirt that said 'What the hell are you looking at?' and a pair of stone washed jeans. He wasn't much for clothes and fashion, though it was a relief to be out of the Dudley hand-me-downs. Hermione had somehow found out how much money he was sitting on and had forced him to buy new clothes. It hadn't been quite as unpleasant as he had expected it to be, but he still wouldn't take it up as a hobby. And as Dean Thomas had claimed that Harrys hair wasn't messed up, it was "_manga_", he could let that one go as well. After all, no respectable wizard would know what in the name of Merlin _manga_ was.

While pulling on his school robes, once again examining the snake and the new colours on his tie declaring him a Slytherin, he managed to get a good look at Damien, the other new Slytherin. Damien O'Callaghan to be precise, since he had just learned the other boy's last name from Seamus while they showered. He was obviously Irish, just like Seamus, and the two of them had hit it off the night before when Harry was having his revealing chat with the Slytherin Prince. Damien was obviously proud of his heritage as harry noticed some spectacular tattoos on his arms and back. If he swung that way, Seamus was going to have a blast. He loved tattoos.

Together they all trooped down to the Great Hall for breakfast. All went well except for when Harry made for the Gryffindor table before Damien grabbed him by the back of his robes and pulled him in the right direction. Harry just laughed about it, and Damien smiled secretly at him. Drinking his morning coffee and waiting for the mail and the _Daily Prophet _(which he threw away after glancing at the front page. He only read it if there was nothing about him on the first page. This morning it said 'Boy-Who-Lived sorted into Slytherin' in huge block letters)Harry found himself nudged in the side by Seamus, who was still sporting that damn smug smile.

"What's up Seamus?" Harry opened with a neutral tone of voice. He was desperately trying to get a simple conversation going, even though he knew it was a futile attempt.

"Oh, not much, Harry. How are you, my friend? Feeling alright?" Seamus smile got wider and wider by the minute, Harry could swear on it.

"I'm fine. Why are you grinning like an idiot this morning?" He tried with his most conversational tone.

"Well, you see, I happened to notice a few things this morning when I entered the showers and for how long have you wanted to get into Malfoys pants, hmm?" came his response without preamble. This was unusually blunt, even for Seamus. Harry tried his hardest not to spit his coffee all over Damien, whose smile now matched Seamus. Was he in on it too?

"What are you on about, you nutter? _Me_ liking _Malfoy_?" Harry noticed that his voice had gone up a few decibels and looked around nervously to see if anyone had overheard their conversation. He continued, this time barely whispering.

"That's just.. completely.. I'm not!"

"Then why were you undressing him with your eyes in the showers this morning?" Seamus retorted with what he claimed was his 'Dirty talk – voice'.

"Leave off, Seamus, I most definitely wasn't. You're beginning to imagine things. "

Seamus dropped the subject, but smiled knowingly at Damien, who smiled back. Harry might be slow, but once you've planted the seed in his head, it had no other option but to bloom.

Harry shook his head at his friend's antics and fixed his eyes on Sevvie coming down the table handing out schedules to the students. Their eyes met in a moment of understanding and of pain, though why the Potions Master was troubled, Harry didn't know.

Though all thoughts of his or his mentor's problems flew Harry's mind once he got a good look at his schedule. He groaned, loudly enough to draw glances to him from all around his new House table. He had always disliked Mondays, but now he was going to bloody well hate them. He started off with double period of Potions (which he still sucked at, no matter how friendly Severus was with him), then transfiguration, then lunch, then Double period of History of Magic after that. Stupid Snape. Stupid Binns. Thank the Gods it was Friday. He was getting off easy today. Care of Magical Creatures at first, then double period DADA, and the rest of the day was free study periods after lunch. Nice. Especially since for the first time since Riddle had cursed the position, a teacher was returning for the second time, and it was none other than Remus Lupin.

The very same night as when Harry had taken out Mouldy-pants, Bellatrix Lestrange had gone completely off her rockers and gone after Harry, at Grimmauld Place. The entire Order had been there and she had been captured and sent to Azkaban without a trial. She was now what the guards called 'a screamer.' This had somehow lit a spark within the old werewolf and he had decided to finally accept the money that Sirius had left for him in his will. He had guided Harry through the mental shock that came after the drinking and celebrating and helped him set things straight. It was Remus that first made it clear to Harry that his life was now fully and truly his own. Together they had captured Wormtail and got Sirius pardoned. They had a stone set up in his memory in place of a grave.

And now, Remus was back at Hogwarts teaching again to everyones joy, save maybe Sevvie and Draco. Though if that too had been part of the Lucius-Says game that the blonde had played, Harry wasn't sure. It struck Harry that Remus might be the source of Severus pain this morning. Damnit, one day he was going to force Sevvie to let by-gones be by-gones and forgive his newest Godfather.

It seemed that Gryffindors and Slytherins were paired to share classes seemed to be a rule, so after a wave in Hermiones direction Harry located Ron and they all went down to Hagrid's hut more or less together. Outside the Grand Entrance though, the group discreetly split in two, and the smaller one –with Harry, Draco, Ginny and Pansy- dropped back and took a longer rout that went behind the green houses. It was a suitably long route if one wanted to do something forbidden, like have a fistfight or smoke. Draco borrowed Harry's Zippo with an appreciative glance at the family crests, and Ginny did what she usually did- she blackmailed Harry into giving her a cigarette or she would tell Molly. Harry always gave in.

Sitting on two well hidden stone benches, they chatted idly about classes, and Draco was surprisingly honest about the fact that he was scared shitless of Hagrid. When Ginny asked him about the new 'care-and-share' Malfoy, he adopted a smug expression and shook his head.

"You're Slytherins now. Every Slytherin has an outside-face and an inside-face, and only other Slytherins get to see the inside face. But that's probably going to change now, considering there's no war. Plus, I always fancied you people to be my arch-nemesis', so why would I tell you anything about me?" He then took one last drag and tossed his cigarette in the bushes, then grabbed his bag and walked in direction of Hagrids hut. "Come on, we're going to be late." Pansy shot Ginny a comforting look when the red head seemed stuck in shock and then linked her arm in Ginnys and together they followed the blond boy.

The two of them had apparently been up until very late last night (or early, considering) and their friendship was no longer a thing in the making, but an established one.

Harry laughed at the absurdity of his life and picked up his pace to catch up with the others. As he caught up, Ginny gently dislodged herself from the group, and made her way over to Herbology with a promise from Pansy to sit together during lunch.

They reached Hagrids hut just in time, so when Harry sidled over to Ron to be paired up with him, he only got a sniff of his clothes and a stern look instead of a Hermione-worthy lecture on how smoking was going to kill him. Harry smiled his biggest smile at him and then got out his COMC book from his bag. Ron sighed and did the same.

When assigned their animals for today's class (some sort of wonky looking, rather obese cat with big red sports all over, that acted like a drugged bear) Harry and Ron sat down in the now sun-warm grass and started taking notes while catching up on what had happened since their separation. Ron was rather upset that he only had Neville and Dean left in his dorm, since they hadn't got any new seventh year Gryffindors, only sixth and fifth. He also claimed he hadn't been able to sleep from worrying about Harry and his dilemma of being with the slimy snakes. Harry had to stop himself from making a very angry retort, and instead calmly told Ron about his first night in the dungeons. Ron listened and seemed reassured, momentarily at least. But soon he started back on about the hellish evil that was Slytherins, and Harry had to somewhat irritably reminded him that Harry too, was a Slytherin. Ron looked like he had had a horrible revelation, but then shook it off again. "You don't count mate, you're a Gryffindor by heart. You're Harry Potter." Ron Weasly, the master of denial.

And even though Harry could joke about it, it still stung a bit that every one presumed him to be the Golden Boy, the true Gryffindor. He was sick of having to put on a brave face and be just and never make snide comments 'cause he was having a bad day. He had only ever told Seamus about this, and on the way up to the castle he walked along side of Seamus to yet again hear his thoughts on the matter. Seamus, always happy to help, cave it some careful thought. "Well, Harry dear, I think.. well, you just might have spent to long being a Gryffindor and now you're inner Slytherin is dying to come out and play. I suggest you let it, it's never good to suppress.. _urges_." At that, the Irish boy got a certain glint in his eyes, and the smile from earlier was returning.

"Seamus, come off it! I'm not into Draco. Seriously." To his dismay he felt his cheeks flame, and Seamus winked at him.

"'course not, Harry dear."

"Jesus, Seamus! I'm not-"

The other boy stopped walking and turned around to face Harry, standing right in front of him. "Okay, Harry, I get it. You loath Malfoy and you don't want to get into his pants. But what I was trying to say earlier is, that even if you have spent all your years here being the poster boy for teenage moral and angst, this is your life now. The Dark Lord is gone. You killed him."

Seamus eyes filled with a rarely seen glow at this, a glow he only got when he spoke of the war. The Irish boy had nearly lost his mother in a Death eater attack. He had expressed his gratitude to Harry for killing Voldemort only once, but Harry had nearly cried when Seamus had shown up at Grimmauld Place sometime in August, just to say thank you.

"This is your life now, just like Remus said. Your life, your choices, your say in things that concern you. You can say what you want, wear what you want, eat what you want, hang with whomever you want.. and shag whoever you want.." he added as an afterthought. At that the glint returned and Seamus shot him a smile and turned and fled, just as Harry realised what he had said. With a frustrated, but relieved sigh Harry resumed his walk back to the castle. After all, he wouldn't want to miss the first DADA-lesson.

Remus was his happy, just and teacher-y self, and handed out as many house points as he took. He had started the semester with teaching them invisibility charms, not just the chameleon kind, but the ones to actually make you invisible for as long as you could sustain the charm. When Harry was the first to succeed no one was surprised, but he still got some slaps on the back from both Gryffindors and Slytherins. When Draco was the second to succeed, he got house points from Remus. Harry slapped him on the shoulder and they shared a smile which made Harry very happy. It was genuine smile, not a sneer or a smirk, but a satisfied and honest-to-god smile.

Before the war, it had been a very rare occurrence to see Draco Malfoy smile. Harry could only remember the once or maybe twice he had seen the blonde smile, and it had both been times when he thought he wasn't seen by anyone. The first was in third year, when Harry had spotted Draco in the Hogsmeade post office. The younger Malfoy had received a huge package, and Harry had seen his eyes light up and a smile grace his face as he read the letter attached which Harry guessed was from Malfoy Sr. But all too soon the eyes had dimmed and the trademark Malfoy sneer had replaced the happy smile, and Harry had felt the first stings of the war.

But now, Dracos' smiles came freely it seemed, and Harry realised he itched to find out what the real Slytherin Prince was like.

But not over lunch, it would seem. As soon as class ended and before Harry had even managed a quick word with Remus about the next full moon, Ron had grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him away to the great hall. Not that Harry minded, but he felt that maybe he should show his support for the Slytherin house and not make it seem like he only wore their colours but still wanted to be a Gryffindor. But it seemed that inter-house unity was on Dumbledores' schedule this year, for in the Great Hall there was now two more tables added to the other five. No sign of special house colours were visible anywhere on them, except for the Hogwarts insignia on the tablecloth. Students from random houses sat paired together for lunch, sorted more by year that house. Mostly it was couples that came from two different houses that appreciated the new tables, and Harry couldn't help but smile a little when Ron sullenly dumped his bag on stone floor beside the bench and sat down. But then again, the Gryffindor was the master of denial. The word 'implications' wasn't even in his vocabulary.

Harry sat down next to his bets friend and reached for the meatloaf while absently scratching his shoulder. He was trying to save his nicotine patches for emergencies only, like the N.E.W.T.s or a very long lesson with Binns, and now he was feeling the need for a cigarette. He hadn't had time for a smoke between COMC and DADA, and he was throwing longing glances at his bag. Ron noticed and raised an eyebrow at him so Harry ignored his cravings for now. He settled for trying to get under Rons skin and find out what had his knickers in a twist.

"So.. we sure seem to be getting a lot of homework this year. Think it'll be tough?" Harry tried the first angle he could think of, but Rons' only answer was a grunt and to shuffle some more potatoes on to his plate. He sure ate fast. OK, so what else?

"How are you holding up without me and Hermione in the dorms? Is it lonely? Bet you miss Hermione more than me though.." he gave it another shot. This one provoked a slightly more enthusiastic response, but still. It was all about potatoes.

Harry sighed and tried again.

"So.. Quidditch try-outs coming up soon. Got any nice strategies for your team?"

This seemed to hit home. Rons eyes darkened a bit and he mumbled down into his food.

"Yeah, I might, but I can't tell them to you can I, now that you're on the Slytherin team."

Harry felt a sting at that. He might have become a Slytherin, but he had only been one for about 20 hours. Was Ron expecting a huge personality disorder by day two?

"Ron, _honestly_." Harry put a lot of emphasis on the latter word. "Do you really think I would use you? Use our friendship for something as _unimportant _as fucking _Quidditch?_" the last part came out more forcefully than he intended, but he was so sick of it all, of people expecting things of him. When he was a Gryffindor he was the truest of hearts, never to harm a good soul. Now, it seemed he was expected to do a 180 and steal the throne of Slytherin from Draco.

Ron's face looked like someone had slapped him, and he had seen it coming for awhile.

"Well, you can't say there isn't reason for me to not trust you." He spat out, his eyes dark.

Harry got so shocked he could hardly speak. "_What?!_" was all he could muster.

"Face it Harry, you got brain washed faster than my Aunt Tessie at a shoe shop. The second you set foot in that dungeon, you changed!" Ron was shouting now, and Harry was shouting right back.

"Ron, you arse! I haven't changed at all! You are seeing things!"

"Like hell, Harry! You are standing up for the lot of them now." Ron was standing and gesturing towards the Slytherin table, from which the entire seventh year was watching with a silent interest. Harry looked around and realised the entire Great Hall was silent and listening to their argument, everyone holding their breaths, waiting for Harry's response.

Harry closed his eyes for a short moment, came to a conclusion and stood up as well. He grabbed his book bag and took a step back from the small table.

"No, Ron. _I_ am not standing up for _them_. _We_ are standing up for _ourselves_." With out any preamble he turned and walked away. Passing the Slytherin table on his way out of the Great Hall, he looked at Draco and nodded, who in turn nodded to Ginny, Pansy, Seamus and Damien. They all folded their napkins correctly, stood and left the Great Hall in search for their Housemate.

_I want to thank the first few reviewers! It means a lot to get feedback on a story, especially one I haven't really got the feel of yet. But the planning is going well I have plans for our young magicians. _

_Since there was more than one person who wanted a update, here you go! It was slightly delayed by a vacation trip to France and the release of Book 7 and Movie 5, but here it is and I hope you like it. _

_And please, more review! Let me know what you think, what I should or shouldn't change. Lots of love! _

Simbele


	3. Labels, Laughter and Liberations

**Title: **Taming Ones Inner Slytherin, Chapter Three: _Labes, Laughter and Liberation_

**Author: **Simbele

**Pairings**: Harry/Draco, Severus/Remus, Seamus/OC, Pansy/Ginny.

**Rating: **MA (R) just to be sure. There might be Snogging and/or cursing, who knows?

**Disclaimer: **Dude, if I owned this shit, we'd be watching it instead of reading it, OK? Not that Rowling isn't God, but.. y'know.

* * *

Harry was pacing.

Round and round he went, tracing an invisible line in the yielding grass not quite by the shore of the lake.

Every other time he turned, the sun reflected on the surface of the lake, blinding him temporarily, making him turn his head sharply and take another deep, frustrated drag of his cigarette.

Walk, turn, walk, blinded by sun, turn head, have a drag, turn, walk.

Harry hated pacing.

So did Severus too, as a matter of fact.

They had reached the mutual decision to kill one another if they were to stoop to the dangerously low level of self-control that came with the need to pace.

So they had smoked in stead, and now Harry was doing both.

Walk, turn, walk, blinded by sun, turn head, take drag, turn, walk.

It was working rather well actually. He didn't feel like punching Ronald Weasly in the face at all. No, no.

Walk, turn, walk, blinded by sun, turn head, take drag, turn, walk.

And then suddenly, a series of events took place more or less at the same time.

Harry discovered that he had finished his cigarette when it burned his fingers, and thus making him yelp- a very manly yelp, mind you- and toss the cigarette in the damp grass. He then stuck his finger in his mouth to soothe the pain, while digging in his jeans pocket for his battered pack, to pull out a new cigarette. He had just managed the feat of opening the pack with one hand and pulling out a smoke with his teeth, when he collided, nose first, with the very solid mass of Draco Malfoy, and dropped his smoke in the grass.

"Owe! Shit! Dammit, Malfoy!" Harry gently grabbed the bridge of his nose as if to console it while searching the grass around their feet for the lost cigarette.

"Watch were you're going Potter!" came the instant reply, and suddenly Harry was back in fifth grade again. Things were simple, black and white and destined to never change. Harry shuddered and came back to the present, feeling slightly queasy. He hated the thought of fifth year.

Harry abandoned the search for he lost Marlboro and straightened his back, meeting the mercury eyes of his once rival dead on. Said boy cocked his head side-ways and held out a lit cigarette in a silent peace offering. Harry sighed and accepted equally silent.

"There we go, Harry love." Seamus nudged his way into Harry's consciousness. "Now sit down, and stop sulking. I'm gonna talk."

Harry laughed in spite of himself and obediently sat down in the damp grass. Draco sank down next to him, mumbling about spoiling new robes. Ginny and Pansy followed, arms linked with each other, while Damien remained standing by Seamus side.

Harry felt an odd kind of expectancy. Seamus in lecture-mode always led to something both deep and insightful or something completely absurd, which more often then not landed them in detention with Snape.

But Seamus didn't immediately start rambling on, spewing his thoughts all over his slightly wrinkled robes. Instead he cocked his head sideways, watching Harry, and several times opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closing it again as if uncertain of if it was appropriate or not.

Then he suddenly plunked down in the soft grass in front of Harry and said simply,

"You're free now Harry."

Harry sighed and took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"What do you mean, Seamus?"

"I mean that it's time- time for you break out of the shell and show the world your middle finger. If you want to be a Gryffindor Role Model or a Slytherin Cunt, it doesn't matter in the slightest, 'cause it's all up to you now."

Though it should have made Harry feel better, it only served to make him even more exasperated.

"But I don't want to be either! If these are my options, I fucking quit!"

But someone gently grabbed his arm. Harry turned to meet those mercury eyes once more, and found that all thought had fled his head. Draco didn't seem as affected though; as he confidently reached for Harry's hand and grabbed the smoke dangling form the raven-haired boy's fingers. He took a deep drag and looked at Harry with honest eyes.

"What the verbally retarded Irish-man over there is trying to say, Harry, is that it doesn't matter who you are, as long as you're you. And as long as you're you, we will be your friends."

Thoughts flew at break neck speed through Harry's head, finally stopping at the only one he was prepared to deal with at that moment.

"So this means you're my friend now?"

Draco gave a small, but genuine laugh.

"Yes, I'd say so. Wouldn't you?"

Harry mirrored his smile.

"Yeah, sure, but it should totally win the award for Freakiest Occurrence of the Year."

Draco winked at him, which made Harry blush. Seamus stood and offered Harry a hand.

"Come on, I've filled my Good Deed-quota for today. Let's go and harass someone. Maybe Ronald is still in the Great Hall?"

Harry smiled evilly at the idea and grabbed Seamus hand. As the other boy steadied him, Harry leant in close to him and whispered in the lewdest voice he could muster.

"He is fucking hot when he cocks his head like that."

This, naturally, lead Seamus to give up a victory cry and take off running towards the castle ahead of the rest of the group.

Pansy raised a delicate eyebrow.

"How come Ravenclaw got the smartest witch in a century and we got Emo-kid and his over-energised sidekick?"

Harry laughed, feeling liberation flowing in his veins as the thoughts "They Don't Take Me As Fucking Seriously As Everyone Else" floated through his head. He turned to Pansy.

"But what does that make her?" he asked, indicating the redhead holding her hand.

Pansy sneaked a glance sideways and smiled a little to herself.

"She's the underestimated heroine, gentle and shy, but with astonishing hidden powers which shocks everyone."

Draco snorted.

"Reads: Total Dyke."

Laughing they all made their way back to the castle, trying to convince Draco to change his middle name to "Leather Fetish Boy".

* * *

_Right, very short and not interesting chapter, but a lot of shit has happened, and the children had to take a back seat for a while. But I'm back, baby!_

_Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed, you are the ones who kept TOIS alive during these months. _

_I hope you like this chapter as well, even though it's short. More actual events next chapter, I promise._

_Perhaps some Grumpy Potions Professors or some Angsty Werewolves?_

_Lots of love, Simbele._


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